“Athletes may dream of winning an Olympic medal,” Arthur said, carrying on where his granddaughter had left off, “but they won’t win medals by dreaming. They have to put in the hard yards.”
“Hard work and tenacity,” said Harriet, nodding decisively. “That’s how a dream becomes real. Grandad, would you hold Bess?”
“I’d love to,” he said, adding in an aside to me, “Harriet’s not the only one who misses having a baby in the house.”
He took Bess from Harriet and Harriet ran from the room, using the same door Mrs. Ellicott had used. Bess nestled into Arthur’s arms without waking. I would have taken the opportunity to survey the library’s books if I hadn’t glanced at the tall case clock in the corner. It reminded me that Bill would be picking the boys up from school in an hour.
“Arthur,” I said, turning to face him, “I now know why you’re the Summer King. I was in desperate need of a little warmth when I got here and you gave me a big bucketful.”
“Dare I ask what chilled you?” he inquired.
I gazed at him in silence for a moment, then asked, “Do you believe blood’s thicker than water?”
“Blood’s messier,” said Arthur. “Its relative density depends on whether it has coagulated or not.”
“I’m not talking about real blood, Arthur,” I said gently. “I’m talking about family loyalty.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, as if he’d genuinely misunderstood me. “No, I’ve never subscribed to that particular maxim. I love and admire most of my relations, but there are one or two I’d like to drop-kick across the Channel. My eldest nephew, for example—a shifty lad. He went into finance, of course. He’s creative, yes, but not in a good way.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you having second thoughts about a member of your family?”
“I’d like to drop-kick my husband’s aunts across the Atlantic,” I said. “They’re proper ladies—well-born, well-dressed, and never a hair out of place. They like to remind me that I’m not the well-bred debutante they had in mind for their nephew.” I heaved a discouraged sigh. “Let’s just say that I’m not looking forward to dining with them at Fairworth on Saturday.”
“Until then,” Arthur said, “I suggest you dismiss them from your mind.”
“I wish I could,” I said, “but they’ll be here for the next three weeks, taking polite potshots at me. William loves them, so I can’t shoot back and I can’t let Bill defend me, either.” I shook my head. “It’s going to be a long three weeks.”
“Come here when you can,” said Arthur. “Let us cheer you up.”
“You already have,” I said, “and I’m grateful, but it’s time for me to go. The rest of my family will be home soon and I have to get dinner on the table for them.”
“I understand,” he said, “but I hope you’ll stay for just a few more minutes. Harriet will want to say good-bye to Bess.”
“Bess will want to say good-bye to Harriet, too,” I assured him. “Or she would, if she were awake.”
Arthur walked up and down the library, crooning softly to my sleeping daughter, while I searched the sofa and the floor space around it for stray diaper bag supplies. I found a rattle wedged between the cushions and had just added it to the bag when Harriet returned, clutching something in her hands. I thought she would run straight to Bess, but instead she ran to me.
“For Bess,” she said, and she presented me with a stuffed animal.
It was a unicorn. Its delicate horn was made of a shiny, smooth, golden fabric and its mane and tale were as fine and fluffy as thistledown. Its shiny black eyes reminded me of Reginald’s, but its necklace of crocheted buttercups would always remind me of Arthur.
“Her name is Bianca because she’s pure white,” said Harriet. “Bianca’s how you say ‘white’ in Latin. And I made her necklace. It’s like Grandad’s crown.”
“It’s lovely,” I said. “Bianca’s lovely, too.” I stroked Harriet’s inexpertly trimmed hair. “Thank you, Harriet. Bess will thank you herself as soon as she learns to speak English.”
“What I want Bess to learn,” Harriet said solemnly, “is that everything—everything—starts with the imagination.”
Sixteen
Arthur guided me back through the maze of courtyards and gardens and waved good-bye to me from the arched opening in the outermost inner wall. Bess and I crossed the broad meadow where the ultralight stood and left the Summer King’s realm through the wrought-iron gate.